


When You're Ready

by holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)



Series: PSon Fluff Bingo [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Age Difference, Flowers, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gift Giving, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, PSon Fluff Bingo, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23951536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys
Summary: Every week, there's a new gift on Gil's desk.(For the square "Secret Admirer" on my fluff bingo card)
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Series: PSon Fluff Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733158
Comments: 10
Kudos: 101





	When You're Ready

It starts off slow. The first thing Gil gets is lunch. The food isn’t fancy but rather his _exact_ order from his favorite Greek place, the place he’s been going to for decades now. It’s delivered by a familiar worker, and when he calls to check, the owner confirms the food came directly from the kitchen, paid for by someone who asked not to be named. Gil deems it safe enough to eat.

Maybe it’s a fluke. Maybe someone at the precinct heard about the Le Mans last week. His coworkers are the only ones who would know his order so well, after all. 

They get a new case, and he puts it out of his mind.

~

A week later, he gets to his office to find his once dwindling candy bowl full again. Gil doesn’t quite have the sweet tooth Malcolm does, but he enjoys picking at it every now and then. He usually fills it from the pick and mix section. He grabs a bag full of this and that, everything from colorful licorice to the little shark shaped gummies, and dumps it into the bowl once every month or two. 

What he finds on his desk is decidedly _not_ from the pick and mix. 

Behind him, Dani whistles. “Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer, Boss.”

There’s a medium-sized wooden crate on the middle of the surface, the tops of plastic candy bags spilling out the top. Another two bags are in the bowl next to it. There are no bows, no letters, no nothing. It’s just… there. And yet, every single kind of candy tucked inside is one he likes, obviously picked with him in mind. Gil pulls out each one to inspect them, both amused and grateful that each bag is unopened and full of individually wrapped pieces. It’s going to make a mess of plastic in his office, but whoever left it was smart enough to realize he won’t be eating just anything that shows up. 

He rips open a bag of caramels and tosses one in Dani’s direction. “Get to work, Powell.”

Untwisting the clear plastic, she shakes her head, grinning, pops it in her mouth, and leaves. 

There’s no way it was her. _That_ Gil can say for certain. Even if she was harboring a crush on him, he knows Dani too well. With all of the bullshit she’s dealt with as a young woman on the force, she would never think of dating a superior or even a former superior, especially not when some of the other cops in the NYPD already question her promotion to Major Crimes. Dani values her career too much, and he respects that.

There’s no way it was JT, either. His other detective is still head over heels for his wife years into their marriage.

Gil opens a bag of chocolate mint hard candies and gets to work.

~

The week after, it isn’t food. Instead, he flips the light switch and finds a toy Le Mans on his desk. He can tell immediately that it’s the same year his was, that someone went to the trouble of getting a replica, not a simple toy. Picking it up, he inspects it. The paint job is very good, so much so that he feels a slight pang at the thought of his baby smashed and dented at the junkyard. The wheels move, too. None of the doors open, but he doesn’t plan on playing with it. He knows exactly what the inside would look like, anyway. 

Gil sets the car carefully on the set of drawers behind his desk. He fishes his now useless keys out of his pocket, setting the key and rabbit’s foot keychain down next to it. 

No matter who is sending these gifts, regardless of how this ends, he thinks he’ll keep the Le Mans, at least. It soothes some of the ache of the loss of the real thing. His secret admirer must know about Jackie with how slow and careful they’re being, but he wonders if they know about all the dates he took her on in that car. All of the times they made out against the leather. All the memories he can’t replace with a new ride.

He might not ever be ready to move on from Jackie. He hopes they understand that. 

~

Maybe they _do_. 

When he walks in the next week, he almost doesn’t notice the pot of angel wing begonias next to the Le Mans. It’s a fairly small one, probably a newer plant rather than an older, more cultivated one, and to his eye at least, it’s been well taken care of. 

Gil has a similar one potted in his living room. His is much larger, much bigger and older. It was Jackie’s originally, something she planted one spring on a whim, because she always did love begonias. Growing her own was a labor of love. Gil couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it when she passed.

Gently raising a leaf, he smiles somberly. It’s definitely an angel wing variety — Jackie’s favorite. He checks to see if it needs watering, but the soil is damp. He leaves it in the indirect sun on the back drawers when he steps out to get a cup of station coffee.

Although this gift definitely narrows the pool of suspects down, it’s not by much. No one knows about the plant in his house, but anyone who was at his wife’s funeral three years back would know how much she loved them. He mentally crosses off anyone who’s been at the station less than that. 

~

“I’m _fine_ ,” Malcolm protests as they climb the stairs to his loft. “Really, Gil, you don’t have to come up.” 

He’s _not_ fine, and Gil _does_ have to go up. Between the stitches on his side and the fact that his body will likely be one entire bruise in the morning, Gil isn’t letting him brush this off so easily. He’ll stay long enough to make sure Malcolm eats, takes his pain medication, and is cuffed in at the very least. “Go get changed, kid,” he says fondly. 

Opening up a cabinet, Gil gets himself a glass and fills it from the tap. He leans against the counter, taking slow sips.

There’s a splash of pink along the wall by the stairs up to the second floor. It wasn’t there the last time he was in the loft, which, admittedly, was a few months back now. Gil sets the glass down on the island before wandering over. He crouches down and traces the shape of an angel wing.

In hindsight, he should have realized sooner.

When Malcolm comes out of the bathroom, Gil is back in the kitchen, sipping his water. “I can take it from here. Promise.”

“Nice flowers,” Gil says quietly. “Angel wing begonias, right?”

Malcolm bites his lip and meets his eyes cautiously. “Jackie’s favorite.”

“Why are you doing this, kid?” Why is he going after _Gil_? He knows Malcolm hasn’t exactly had it easy in regards to dating, what with his demeanor, his trust issues, his _parentage_ , but he could still have his pick from a much younger pool, maybe someone who’s not mourning their spouse, who isn’t already graying. 

“Getting stabbed puts things in perspective,” Malcolm jokes weakly. He looks away and eases onto one of the barstools with a wince that tells Gil his stitches were tugged in the process. “We can forget about this if you want. Just say the word.”

Instead, Gil uses a hand to tilt his chin up. “Or we could take it slow.” Like Malcolm was already. He knew his secret admirer was taking their time to give _him_ time to get used to it. Now that Gil knows who it is… he’s still not ready to jump into anything, but he doesn’t want to stop, either. 

Malcolm leans into his hand, eyes wide, hopeful.

The corners of Gil’s mouth twitch up as he leans down for a short, chaste kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to KateSamantha for making me my card <3


End file.
